


Viscaria

by theherocomplex



Series: Strange Nights, Stranger Journeys [1]
Category: When The Night Comes (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Pre-Romance, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theherocomplex/pseuds/theherocomplex
Summary: Ezra should not be thinking these thoughts in public. Ezra probably shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts anywhere, but they’re both so beautiful, both of them warm-eyed and unspeakably fond as they look at him.
Relationships: Hunter/Finnegan Kazimir/Ezra Lyon
Series: Strange Nights, Stranger Journeys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350991
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Viscaria

**Author's Note:**

> [missmeggo929](https://missmeggo929.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr asked for **Viscaria - Dance with me**.
> 
> Note: In my WTNC continuity, Dasha Redthorne and Telaris Vayet (and [kindervenom's](http://kindervenom.tumblr.com) Reed Forthwright) exist in the same universe, and get up to Shenanigans together.

Ezra waves after a grinning Dasha as August leads her, to absolutely no one’s shock, in the direction of the wine merchant, then turns back to Telaris. “So,” he says, tilting his head back to meet her gaze head-on. “Where to next?”

He’s rewarded with a sliver of a smile, which he’s learned is Telaris’ version of Dasha’s grin. Not just that, but a softening of the eyes, and a loosening of the shoulders. It’s hard to imagine Telaris out of her armor, even when she’s wearing a coal-black dress with a deep green cloak over it, but he thinks it starts like this: with a smile, and softer eyes.

“Where do you want to go?” she asks. “You _are_ my guide, after all. Though — one request.”

“Oh?” He thinks he knows where this is going.

“Let’s skip the wine, for now.” She glances toward the booth, where August is just now handing a cup to Dasha. She beams up at them, and they almost smile back — which is the first real surprise of the evening, because Ezra was a firm believer August had _stopped_ smiling about five years ago.

“Deal. But let’s get some food. There’s a lovely pastry chef somewhere in here, you’ll love their almond twists.” Before he can think better of it, Ezra slips his arm through Telaris’. She stiffens a little, startled, but relaxes when he gives her a gentle smile.

 _You sweet thing,_ he thinks, while she maneuvers them through the crowd, at least half a head taller than everyone around them. _When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful?_

He doesn’t want to wander down that path too long. The night air is crisp and full of spices, everyone is laughing, and Telaris moves so gracefully in her long black dress his chest warms every time he glances at her. A red curl tumbles out of her bun as he watches her, and he carefully tucks it back without a word.

“Well, well,” says a familiar voice, the smirk loud and clear. “Now _this_ I could get used to.”

“Finnegan,” Telaris replies. Ezra does _not_ analyze how he feels when he realizes how tall they both are, and how pleasant it is to have them on either side. “Are buttons going extinct? Or do you just like reminding everyone you’re a vampire?”

“Be nice about the buttons,” Ezra says, nudging her in the side. “Their story’s a tragic one, and Finn here is suffering.”

“I’m in agony, Telaris, over the plight of the buttons.” Finn rakes his gaze over them in turn. “You look wonderful,” he says, to both, and to either. “Good enough to —”

“Careful, Willenheim might hear you.” But Telaris is smiling now, and drawing Ezra closer against her side, and suddenly the warmth in Ezra’s chest flows between all of them, the air growing rich and dense with possibility.

Ezra should _not_ be thinking these thoughts in public. Ezra probably shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts _anywhere_ , but they’re both so beautiful, both of them warm-eyed and unspeakably fond as they look at him.

_Don’t be selfish, Ezra Lyon. Don’t you dare._

“I did have a question, so it’s good neither of you seem upset at being interrupted.” Finn leans back against a tent pole, his mouth quirked up on one side. “Someone told me our fair Hunter likes to dance.”

Telaris tosses her head, but Ezra catches the quick, soundless _oh_ as she does. “And is that someone a certain Hunter who isn’t known for thinking ahead? Or at all?”

“It’s okay,” says Ezra through a laugh. “You can say Dasha.”

“Dasha did tell me.” Finn grins, all fang. “Now, Telaris Vayet. Whenever you can bear to be parted from Ezra, will you indulge me?”

She looks at both of them, something thoughtful stirring in her hazel eyes. “I think I will,” she says, carefully, an invitation and a test. “If Ezra will indulge _me_ with the dance after that. And,” she adds, before either Finn or Ezra can say anything, “if you two indulge yourselves after _that_.”

Ezra and Finn share a look, lightning-struck. It’s too much to see Finn so open again, so hopeful, but Ezra doesn’t look away.

“Yes,” he says, the warmth between them doubling, tripling, enough to turn winter to spring. “I’d like that.”


End file.
